


"Do I look stupid to you?"

by Artemis_Dreamer



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Autobots - Freeform, Cybertron, Decepticons - Freeform, Drabble, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: Optimus Prime was a prideful and oftentimes stubborn mech, but he was not a fool (and maybe, just maybe, Megatron had been pushing his luck).---In which Optimus and Megatron try to outsmart one another, and technically succeed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ambiguous continuity. Not canon compliant.

Spelled out on a datapad, the situation was quite straightforward. Optimus Prime, last of the Primes, had been newly instated as the leader of Cybertron (or, what was left of it). Megatron had been granted the office of Lord High Protector, guardian of the leader of Cybertron (or, what was left of him).

Yes, typed out in plain text, it really did seem quite straightforward.

In reality, nothing could ever be that simple. Megatron was much less "guardian of the Prime" than he was "brutal, foul-tempered warbuild with no patience for petty politics". Optimus was much less "leader of Cybertron" than he was "exasperated janitor tasked with a mess of planetary proportions". 

The responsibilities of leadership meant that the Prime was near-constantly rushed off his pedes. The responsibilities of making sure Megatron didn't tear any more politicians limb from limb meant that he spent the rest of his meagre available time being thoroughly fragged.

Millennia of celibacy had caught up with the former Decepticon leader, and now that he had a partner with whom he could interface regularly, his libido was very nearly insatiable. 

His libido fuelled the worst of his rages, but it was also the most effective means that Optimus had ever discovered for keeping Megatron under control.

Or, that's what Optimus liked to think. In fact, Megatron had it down to a science - a bit of irritability, a display of temper, and the Prime would drop even the most vital of tasks and submit himself to the former Decepticon to be fragged senseless.

Yes, Megatron was very pleased with this arrangement, and the Prime's pride would ensure that it continued - Optimus was so slagging pleased with himself for "taming" the warlord that it was quite nearly palpable.

That irritating, unjustified pride. It was the reason that Megatron had no qualms about timing his bouts of temper to ensure that the ensuing interface would hinder the Prime's punctuality. Nothing pleased the former Decepticon more than the sight of a flustered Optimus dashing frantically from the berthroom, horribly late to some meeting or other (that was likely already half over). 

The limp in his stride, the dents in his plating, and the silver scratches gouged into his paint made a simple fact clear to every mech and femme in that meeting room. Megatron was the Prime's conjunx eterna - his incredibly possessive conjunx eterna. No bot who valued their life would dare to lay a servo on him.

Now, Optimus Prime was a prideful and oftentimes stubborn mech, but he was not a fool (and maybe, just maybe, Megatron had been pushing his luck). After being fragged into recharge seven separate times over the course of just three orns, Optimus finally realized what was happening.

Realized, but did nothing whatsoever to stop it. Instead, he continued to play willingly into the former Decepticon's devious servos.

It wasn't a course of action befitting a Prime, but he wasn't thinking as a Prime - he was thinking as Optimus. When Megatron 'faced him into overload after blissful overload, all rational thought was cleared from him processor. In those moments, the worries of leadership were completely absent.

Worries about supply shortages for spacebridge maintenance teams. Worries about the stability of the planet's core. Worries about the monumental task of reconstructing even a small fraction of Iacon, never mind the entirety of Cybertron.

In those moments, all of those worries were gone. He could simply lay back and revel in the sheer pleasure of interface, of being thoroughly fragged by his talented and seemingly insatiable conjunx.

There was no better release of stress than the act of surrendering all control of his frame, spark, and processor to the mech who had once been his worst enemy. 

(Sometimes surrendering for several breems at a time.)

All jokes about his laziness in the berth aside, it was everything that Optimus could possibly want.

Judging by the broad smirk on those insufferably gorgeous grey faceplates as Optimus overloaded, reduced yet again to a blissfully strutless heap, Megatron slag well knew it.

Despite the outpouring of protests and outrage, Optimus had chosen to grant Megatron the office of Lord High Protector. Though the warlord continued to pointedly ignore many of the traditional aspects of the role, he had fully embraced his duty as the guardian of the Prime. 

The guardian of his Prime.

The guardian of his Prime's sanity.

**Author's Note:**

> Smutty, fluffy, maybe some plot in there somewhere. I wanted to do something set on post-war Cybertron, and this just sort of happened.
> 
> Any and all feedback is much appreciated.


End file.
